Love Comes Silently(Senses 1) (23 page)

“Sometimes,” Ken admitted. “I think it would take me a lifetime to capture everything about you, and by the time I did, you’d have changed.” Ken moved close to where Patrick stood still looking at the paintings. “But I want to try, if you’ll let me.” Patrick nodded, and Ken smiled, moving into Patrick’s arms. “Good. I’m going to hold you to that,” Ken said happily as he squeezed Patrick’s waist tightly, resting his head against his chest.

When they separated, Patrick motioned toward the other canvases. “Those are mostly the pictures I’ve done of Hanna,” Ken explained, turning around the ones he’d done of her before she’d become ill. The later ones broke his heart, and he wasn’t sure he could look at them right now. They’d been therapeutic to paint, but looking at them now was difficult. Maybe he could really look at them once he knew….

Patrick wandered slowly through the studio, looking at each of the paintings as Ken cleaned up. Once he was done, Ken saw him pick up the drawing Hanna had done in the hospital. Patrick looked at it for a few seconds, smiling. Patrick pointed to himself, and Ken nodded. “She loves you a lot.” Patrick put his hand over his heart, and Ken knew he was saying the feeling was mutual.

Patrick yawned, and Ken followed right behind him. He turned out the light and took Patrick’s hand, leading him back through the house and up the stairs. Together, they checked on Hanna once again before going to the bedroom, where they undressed and climbed into bed. Patrick held him tight, and Ken closed his eyes. There were still worries and cares, but he could lay them to rest for now.

T
HEnext time Ken woke, it was to Patrick trying to get out of bed. Ken tightened his embrace, and Patrick settled back down. “What is it?” Ken asked, lifting his head, and he saw Patrick looking toward the door. “Is it Hanna?” Patrick nodded, and Ken thought for a few seconds. “Do you intend to be part of both our lives?”

“Then you’re a part of our lives and part of our family, and I think she has a right to know if I’m seeing you,” Ken explained. “Hanna has been through a lot, but I can’t keep something like this from her any longer.” Patrick began pantomiming, and it took Ken a while to figure out what he was trying to express. But about the time Ken began to understand what Patrick was trying to say, he heard footsteps in the hall and then his door opened.

Hanna walked into the room, and Patrick buried himself under the covers as Hanna jumped onto the bed and then stopped, looking at the lump on the far side of him. “Who’s that?” she asked, pointing, and Patrick lowered the covers. “You and Uncle Patrick had a sleepover?”

“Is he going to live with us like Mark did?” Hanna asked, shifting nervously from foot to foot. “’Cause I don’t want him to go away like Mark did.” Hanna crossed her arms over her chest as she walked around the bed to where Patrick was still hiding. She stood right in front of him, glaring at Patrick. “Do you promise?” Hanna asked incredibly seriously. Patrick lifted his head and nodded to her. “Cross your heart?” Hanna said, making lines on her chest.

Ken heard Patrick’s hands rub inside the covers and he knew he was making the same movements. Hanna grinned and then ran back to his side the bed. “Does this mean I’ll have two daddies again?”

Ken grinned as Patrick kicked him under the covers. “How about you continue to call him Uncle Patrick for a while? He and I have lots we need to talk about, but we wanted you to know that he and I love each other, and we both love you very much.” Ken felt his throat clench as he gave Hanna a hug. “Now go on and get dressed, and we’ll meet you downstairs to get something to eat.”

Ken turned to Patrick. “We have about five minutes to get dressed before she’ll be back in here,” Ken warned with a wink, and Patrick shot out of the bed and pulled on his clothes. Ken couldn’t stop laughing as Patrick practically leapt into his underwear and jeans. Ken dressed as well and was able to get his teeth brushed before Hanna burst back into the room.

“I’m ready,” she exclaimed, and Ken lifted Hanna into his arms. After taking Patrick’s hand, Ken led his family downstairs to make breakfast. “Daddy, am I going to get sick again?” Hanna asked as they entered the kitchen.

“I hope not, honey,” Ken answered, setting her down and looking at Patrick. “Dr. Pierson thinks there’s a chance you’ll be fine, and all we can do is make sure you rest and eat well, so Uncle Patrick and I are going to make your favorite breakfast.”

“Not for breakfast,” Ken said, whisking her off her feet and into his arms. “But maybe later, if you’re good.” Ken didn’t have answers, and as much as he wished he did, he couldn’t see into the future. He did know that he could make the most of the time he had, be that weeks, months, or, “Please, God…,” years.

“
K
EN, where are you? I’m going out of my mind. Please, for God’s sake, call me,” Phillip, his agent, pleaded in his voice mail. Ken deleted the message after hearing it as he walked naked to the bathroom in their hotel room, dropping the phone on his jacket. He’d call Phillip back a little later.

Ken started the water in the shower and stepped under the spray, pulling the curtain closed behind him. He reached for the soap and began cleaning up as he heard the bathroom door open, and then the curtain was pushed aside and a beautifully naked Patrick stepped into the shower with him. “I thought you were getting dressed,” Ken said, but he’d be damned if he intended to complain. So what if they were a little late. Patrick kissed him as his hands wandered all over Ken’s skin. Well, a lot late. Phillip would probably come unglued, but Ken couldn’t find it in himself to care, not right now. Ken moaned softly and held Patrick tighter as wet skin pressed to slippery wet skin. Ken loved the way Patrick felt, wet or dry. Granted, there was something about wet that really got him going. Maybe it was the way Patrick’s chest slid over his, or the way his soapy hands slid over his skin. Somehow Ken figured it was an “all of the above” thing. “Patrick,” Ken said, chuckling as his lover’s gentle touch tickled along his ribs. He squirmed to get away, but Patrick tightened his grip and firmed up his caresses.

Patrick gripped his butt tightly, and Ken groaned softly in his lover’s ear, pressing back into the touch to let Patrick know exactly what he wanted. Before Ken knew what was happening, he’d been whirled around and pressed against the tile. “That’s it,” Ken encouraged as he waited. Sometimes Patrick simply slid into him, stretching and filling until Ken screamed at the top of his lungs. Ken had told Patrick once that being silent did have its advantages, because Ken never knew what to expect, and he liked it that way. Ken’s cheeks were spread, and he waited, legs shaking in anticipation, but nothing happened.

Ken was about to turn and look when he felt warm water shoot against his opening, and a few seconds later, it happened again, this time followed by Patrick’s tongue and lips. “Jesus, what are you doing to me?” Ken pressed against the tile, his legs shaking so hard he wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand up. When Patrick speared him deep, Ken groaned and spread his legs further. He was expecting more of the same, but what he got was Patrick pressed to his back, cock pressing inside him. “Yes!” Ken cried as Patrick slid inside him.

Patrick didn’t slow or stop, pressing inside him in one long, slow movement. By the time Ken felt Patrick’s hips against his ass, he was breathing like a racehorse and already halfway to coming, and neither he nor Patrick had touched his dick. Ken was afraid to stroke himself, because he’d be coming in seconds, so he pressed his hands flat against the tile and braced himself for whatever Patrick had in mind. Patrick’s patience in these situations always got him going, and today was no exception. Ken had often thought his lover was some sort of saint, because he always seemed to have the most amazing control, and even when Ken felt as though he was going to fly apart, Patrick grounded him and then drove him to heights he’d never imagined. And he was doing just that right now.

For a second, Ken thought Patrick might have fallen asleep; he simply wasn’t moving. Then he withdrew, agonizingly, excruciatingly slowly. Ken wanted to pull away so he could plunge himself back onto Patrick’s shaft, but he knew that would only make Patrick go slower and tease him more. Patrick did this for him, and it was Ken who always benefited. Once, Patrick had put off his climax for so long that when he did drive Ken over the edge, he’d damned near passed out from sensation overload. “Please, Patrick, don’t make me wait.”

The only answer he got was a pat on the hip as he was slowly filled again. Ken knew exactly why Patrick was doing this, and he had to let him. Ken had been a nervous wreck for days, and this was Patrick’s way of mellowing him out. When Patrick picked up his pace, Ken felt as though his eyes were ready to roll to the back of his head. Before, Patrick would slow down again, but this time he picked up more speed, and Ken stroked himself, resting his other arm on the tile. His breath coming in short pants, Ken tried to hold out as long as he could, but Patrick was in control, and Ken quickly felt the pressure building from the base of his tingling toes. The sensation shot up his legs, filling his entire body until he could hold it in no longer. With a loud cry, Ken shot come all over the wall of the shower, and moments later, he felt Patrick filling his body, each throb of Patrick’s cock making him shiver and shake.

Patrick wrapped his arms around Ken’s chest, holdin g the two of them together, and Ken leaned back and turned his head, and Patrick kissed him sloppily until he slipped from Ken’s body. Then Ken turned around, and Patrick hugged him close. Actually, that was the only thing that kept him on his feet.

They’d probably used all the hot water for the entire hotel by the time Patrick had washed him thoroughly and turned off the water. Stepping out of the shower, they dried themselves quickly before moving to their room to get dressed.

Ken checked his phone and found four more messages from Phillip, so he took mercy on him and called before getting dressed.

“Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick. The opening is in two hours, and you haven’t brought over the last painting yet. The gallery owner is coming unglued. They need to hang the piece but they haven’t seen it.” There were times when Ken wondered if the man ever took a breath, and now Ken had proof he didn’t.

“Calm down. Patrick was just making sure I was good and relaxed for the show tonight. We’re getting dressed, and we’ll be at the gallery in half an hour with the painting,” Ken explained as he watched Patrick pull on his tuxedo pants. “The longer you keep me on the phone, the later we’ll be.”

“Okay, just get here as soon as you can okay? You know I love ya,” Phillip added before disconnecting the call. Ken chuckled as he tossed the phone on the bed and began getting dressed.

“I don’t think the gallery would appreciate me showing up naked. They might not mind you being naked, though. But I’d have to kill anyone who looked at you, so it’s probably best if we both finish getting dressed before Phillip busts a gut.”

“
If you’re sure
,” Patrick added with a smirk that made Ken smile.Patrick had been taking lessons in sign language for months now. Ken and Hanna had gone with him. A whole world had opened up for Patrick, and what Ken had found was a whole new side to the man he loved. Not only was Patrick great as the strong silent type, he was also incredibly intelligent, something Ken had always known, but it had blossomed now that Patrick could communicate with the world again.

“I’m very sure,” Ken said as he swatted Patrick’s butt. “You’re mine and you always will be.” Ken punctuated his sentiment with a kiss, feeling a little loopy when it was over. “Now, we’re leaving in five minutes. And remember, the sooner we get there, the sooner this whole thing will be over.”

“
Amen
,” Patrick signed, and Ken couldn’t help smiling again at the leer on his lover’s lips. Ken kissed the leer away before tying his bow tie and putting on his jacket.

“How do I look?” Ken asked, and Patrick signed something. “I don’t understand,” Ken said. Patrick signed again, and Ken grinned. “I understood the first time—I just wanted you to say I was hot again.” Ken ducked away from Patrick’s gentle swat and put on his shoes before checking himself in the mirror one last time. Then he gathered the wrapped canvas, and they left the room, heading for the elevator. The gallery was sending a limousine, and for that Ken was more than grateful. The canvas he was carrying wasn’t small and he hadn’t finished it in time to ship, so they’d had to transport it with them on the drive from Pleasanton to New York. Somehow, after getting into the city, they’d made it to the hotel, but neither of them had any desire to drive in Manhattan.